


just close your eyes (we'll be all right)

by leopoldjamesfitz



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, small fluff piece that came from the pit of hell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-03
Updated: 2018-03-03
Packaged: 2019-03-26 11:24:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13856793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leopoldjamesfitz/pseuds/leopoldjamesfitz
Summary: “Jemma,” he moaned, tilting his head away from her, though it didn’t do much. From her perch between his spread legs, she grabbed his chin and held it in place. She looked cute, he’d admit, eyebrows furrowed in both annoyance and frustration, but really, all the fuss was for naught. “I’m fine. It’s just a little scratch.” He promised, because really, the beacon that had inevitably detonated had been far enough away from him for it to not be an actual worry. “You should be worrying about more important things. Daisy’s injuries. Elena.”Jemma sighed indignantly, pressing a little harder with the alcohol swap as he hissed gently. The cut was a bit deeper than he’d admit, of course, but they had other troubles. “It’s a cut. Something that could get infected if not treated properly, Fitz.” She reminded him, as she had seemingly hundreds of times before in years of their friendship. “Can’t have you dying on me now, can we?”





	just close your eyes (we'll be all right)

“Jemma,” he moaned, tilting his head away from her, though it didn’t do much. From her perch between his spread legs, she grabbed his chin and held it in place. She looked cute, he’d admit, eyebrows furrowed in both annoyance and frustration, but really, all the fuss was for naught. “I’m fine. It’s just a little scratch.” He promised, because really, the beacon that had inevitably detonated had been far enough away from him for it to not be an actual worry. “You should be worrying about more important things. Daisy’s injuries. Elena.”  
  
Jemma sighed indignantly, pressing a little harder with the alcohol swap as he hissed gently. The cut was a bit deeper than he’d admit, of course, but they had other troubles. “It’s a cut. Something that could get infected if not treated properly, Fitz.” She reminded him, as she had seemingly hundreds of times before in years of their friendship. “Can’t have you dying on me now, can we?”  
  
As she twisted to drop the swab into a plastic bag that she was using as a pseudo garbage can, his eyes narrowed. She swallowed hard and reached for the stitching equipment, her hand shaking. “Jem...” he murmured, reaching up to grab her shaking hand in his. The instrument clattered to the metal table below it. “Jem, I’m okay. We’re okay.”  
  
“Are we?” She twisted back toward him, her eyes wide and filled with unshed tears. “We’re fugitives. The world might end at any second. We have no idea how to fix... any of it.” She choked on her last words, exhaling shakily as he placed a hand along her lower back and rubbed up and down the length.   
  
His heart clenched unnaturally in his chest as he watched her, her frame still tense and breathing uneven. The last few days had been rough, for a lack of better wording, and it didn’t seem as though returning to earth had solved anything.   
  
Clearing his throat, he squeezed his hand around hers and exhaled slowly. “We’re okay. We’ll be okay.” He promised, catching her gaze and never breaking it. “No matter what, we’ll be together, yeah? That’s all I could ever ask for.”  
  
With a shaky smile, she lifted her hands up and framed his face, rubbing the pads of her thumbs along his cheekbones. “Yeah,” she breathed out, the sound almost a sigh of relief, and he sunk into her until their foreheads pressed together. “Just... don’t do anything stupid that will get you hurt.” She told him crossly, narrowing her gaze. “At least not until the wedding. Then you can do whatever you want.” She added after a moment, her lips quirking into a tiny smile as soft laughter peeled from her.   
  
Squeezing his arms around her waist, he pulled her impossibly closer and straightened up, pulling away from her to catch her gaze. “When all this is said and done with, we’ll have to figure that out,” he murmured quietly. “The wedding.”  
  
A hopeful smile tugged at the corner of her lips and she nodded gently. Truthfully, she’d never seen herself having a wedding at all, let alone a lavish, extravagant one that she was sure her mother would insist upon. She wrinkled her nose at the thought and sighed, dipping her head. “Something to look forward to,” she murmured and he nodded, liking the sounds of it. “I’ll be happy with it any way - but you know I’ve never been a fan of the whole wedding scene.”  
  
“And you know the same about me,” he replied easily, and it didn’t take her long to remember the time he’d brought her as a date to a cousin on his father’s side’s wedding and how he’d been exasperatingly miserable the entire time. Had it not been for her company, he would have easily labeled it as one of his top five worst days. “So something small. You and me, our friends and maybe family.” He dipped his one palm along the small of her back as he spoke. “Don’t care as long as you’re there.”  
  
“Cheesy,” she teased, but rewarded him with a kiss anyway, one that made her cheeks feel warm and she cast another glance at his still uncovered wound before she pulled her hands away from his face reluctantly and shucked off the gloves she’d been wearing, exchanging them for another pair.   
  
She studied the cut and deemed that it didn’t need stitches - something he wasn’t inclined to argue with - but plopped a bandaid over it and sealed the entire thing with a kiss over the spot. “All better,” she told him teasingly.   
  
“All better,” he echoed, smiling softly. She leaned into him again, letting their foreheads nudge as he tightened his grip around her waist. “Thank you, Jemma.” He murmured, kissing the tip of her nose. “For patching me up, obviously. But for more than that. Thank you for being here with me. For wanting to marry me.”  
  
Jemma laughed, loud and uproarious as she pulled back, shaking her head. “Are you really thanking me for asking you to marry me?” She asked incredulously, her laughter dissolving to giggles slowly. She grinned and leaned closer, nuzzling their noses together. “Oh my silly man,” she whispered into the space between them. “I can’t wait to marry you.”  
  
Fitz nodded, as gently as he could, and bent up to press a kiss against her forehead. “Me neither,” he confessed quietly, grinning. “But I’m still not wearing a kilt.”  
  
Jemma laughed again, a wry smile tugging against her lips as she hooked her arms around his neck. “Well,” she laughed quietly, looking up at him through under her lashes. “I guess we will have to see about that.”

**Author's Note:**

> welcome to my hell brain!  
> population: fitzsimmons and any au you can think of


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